When stupid little children think certain words are hot.

I'm not a stranger to internet stupidity, I've engaged, hell, started plenty myself. So no comments on the boring minutiae of this particular wank.

But I wouldn't mind talking about my mother's Kristallnacht experience.

My late mother had the monumental bad luck to be born in Eastern Germany in 1931. Bad luck, not because she was Jewish, because she wasn't, but no one who was around in those days was having a great time and even those that were ended up on the wrong end of a cyanide pellet or hangman's noose, which is only right and fair.

My mother talked about her war experiences only intermittently (and after a few drinks) which was fine by me. There's only so much talk about years of slaughter, horror, hate and fear you can take at one sitting.

But she did mention Kristallnacht, once. What I gleaned from that talk was that the most interesting thing about it, being the ordinary pogrom it was on the surface, is that the targets of it were possibly some of the most secular, assimilated Germans who'd ever lived. Many of these "despicable Jews" didn't even practice their faith.

Germany in 1938 wasn't exactly a hotbed of religious unrest. The deeply integrated mix of Jews, northern Lutherans and Catholics to the south got along fine for the most part, because they neither knew or cared what the other was doing. It was a time of grand secularism, especially after the deep scars of WWI had robbed many of their faith.

(By the way, this was Hitler's genius, taking what was essentially a non-issue and making it the most important thing ever, the one thing that only HE could fix. We see this mentality today, in the U.S. right now and if this doesn't scare you it should, but I'm getting away from my point.)

The point is that on the evening of Kristallnacht, my grandfather hid his family in the back of the house, not knowing what the hell was going on, except that a gang of armed hoodlums had come into their small town to kill them all. When they finally emerged the next morning, they discovered the systematic destruction throughout the town, affecting a few unlucky homes, which included their next-door neighbors whose house had been broken and burned, the occupants never seen again.

These occupants included my mother's little best friend, who was eight years old at the time. She told me about shuffling through the ruin for days, sifting through the broken glass and splintered wood with her bare hands, staring at the mess and my rattled grandmother yelling at her to get out of there in case the killers came back.

She was told not to talk about the neighbors again. And she didn't.

Fast forward many years later to her telling me this story. What was the part that killed me? When she said this ...

"I didn't even know she was Jewish."

So here we have a tragedy made even greater because it wasn't about religious zealotry at all, it was about random acts of terror committed to subjugate a nation, then the world if they got the chance and there's nothing sexy about cowardly murders in the dead of night against a population who were nothing more than good scapegoats for something as ordinary as political domination.

I'm sure the writers of the role play called "Kristallnacht" will try to spice things up a bit, because what good is a sexy name without some hot times had by all.

With this very important task, I wish them luck.

In the meantime I hope they never are herded to the back of their houses in the middle of the night and wake to find a beloved friend gone, never to be seen again. I also hope that twenty years from now, with some help from a big-ass bottle of wine, they don't turn to their kids and say, 'The Internet? Oh, yeah, I played on the Internet back in the day and boy, was I an asshole.

I won't hold my breath for the latter.

And here's another one, from April 13th, 2003:

( here )

Backreading through my entries, I found this post, dated October 10, 2002.

It seems I read this right all along. (Not locked because it's that important.)

From October 10, 2002:

So, having lived through 9/11 here in NYC, I guess you want to know how I and Mr. Mouse feel about the imminent invasion of Iraq. Okay, I'll tell you.

We are sick in our fucking hearts.

Strange, isn't it? We're supposed to hate our Arab non-friends, and to be honest, I sort of do ... the emphasis on the "non-friends" part. Because, as much as I'd like to believe it in the dark part of my soul, not all Arabs and Muslims are out for my and my family's blood.

Really, they aren't.

Sure, a few are, but most of them, like the people in Baghdad, are just poor schlubs who are trying to get through their day-to-day lives the best they can, like the rest of us on this whirling planet.

So it hurts me, beyond comprehension, that those people in Baghdad and other cities in Iraq will soon know the terror of attack. Of screaming jet fighters -- this time foe, not friend -- buzzing their houses. Of hiding in a closet, of saving every drop of water, of praying every night for relief from fear.

It makes me sick. Because I've been there. I've felt the unreality, the surreal feeling of looking at blooming gardens and knowing that a few miles away, thousands were among the burning dead.

My eyes are tearing as I write this. Because I know ... I know.

I know why Iraq was chosen. It's exactly why New York City was chosen. Because the people there are cosmopolitan, thoughtful, educated, and at the center of a hub for that part of the world. If we stomp on them, the entire region will take serious pause.

That's why that murdering piece of shit Osama Bin Make-A-Name-For-My-Pathetic-Self did it to New York City ... it's the very same reason why we're going to do it to Iraq.

Because they're not going to fight back with immediate and psychotic force. Like Saudi Arabia would. Like Iran would. Or any of the other half-witted, twisted, backwards regimes in that area would. Because the people of Iraq think first, then react when it's too fucking late.

Because they have half a brain in their heads. Because they are civilized people. So they are the easiest targets we have.

Isn't that just fucking great?

Do I think Saddam Hussein is a power-hungry madman? Of course he is. Like Tommy Mottola, the head of Sony Records, you don't get to be a major piece of kiss-my-ass-or-die without being an evil fuck. That's the way it's been since apes starting walking on two feet.

Is he a lot different from the power-hungry evil fucks in this country? Not really, except that he's cruder and more obvious. Yeah, that gassing of little towns all through Kuwait wasn't exactly Love Canal ... or was it? But, there's no doubt about it, Saddam Hussein is one evil, sick fuck.

So why are we acting like he's the only one in the world?

All I know is that he's not a lot different from Pol Pot. Idi Amin. Pinochet. The Adolf Hitler we sort of, used to, like. Or Stalin, our great, wonderful pal. Or the current regime in China. Or the dozens of dictators we've been coddling since the beginning of US history to keep the homeland peace or use for our own not-exactly-pure purposes.

Hussein is, in all honesty, a pussy compared to a lot of these guys.

He's a weasel. A whiner. A wincing, cowardly loser.

Look at the facts. He has yet to really let loose those bio and nuclear terrors he supposedly has stored and ready for world conquering. Why, Iran would have been a wasteland a decade ago if he'd had that sort of power. He's not exactly the epitome of patience from what I've seen. He loves to kill people, even his own best friends, better yet, members of his own family.

Shy, our boy Saddam, is not.

And yet, his neighbors don't seem to be that afraid of him. Turkey, which should be terrified, is so-so on invasion. Iran, which would not say a word if invasion benefited them ... is against it completely. (Remember, he wants their asses most of all ... more than ours.) Everyone else is playing along, reluctantly, because they KNOW that the price to be paid for 9/11 is a permanent U.S. presence in the region ... somewhere ...and hell, it's better there, in Iraq, than wherever they are.

Yeah. It's better them than us.

And that's why I cry for the Iraqi people.

Because I know what's it's like to be the best, and the easiest, target in the region.

I know what it's like to lay awake at night and pray and pray and pray. Cry for a husband who might not be coming home. Wake up every morning with a gasp and go to sleep every night deluding yourself into thinking it's all a dream and will be over soon. To try to work, to think, to do anything without looking at the vultures that circle, without hiding under the table when the jets go overhead. To have your heart take up permanent residence in your throat and be glad that your parents are dead so you don't have to worry about them anymore. Oh yeah, I know what that's like and so will the people of Iraq.

Those poor bastards. Those poor, poor bastards.

I can't tell you the shame I feel at causing them this sort of pain.

I'd go suffer with them there, but I'd be a traitor then, wouldn't I? Instead of someone who'd feel right at home.

In Baghdad ... as the jets fly overhead.

I stumbled across this tiny fic I wrote a long time ago and it made me weepy.

That's either incredibly egocentric or my hormones have finally hit the breaking point. I fixed a few typos and wanted it here for posterity.

Category: Tiny Tales, Drabble, Vignette
Fandom: Star Wars (The Phantom Menace)
Rating: PG-13 (adult themes)

Summary: A tiny Rabe tale.

( Handmaiden Tales: Rabe )

fic: falling like fire by mousekate
fandom: BSG
pairing: Adama/Roslin
rating: PG-13
disclaimer: Property of lots of people, not me.
summary: A meeting of the minds. The reunion scene we never got.
A/N: Thanks to paigehunt and ingridmatthews for the pre-reads.

( FIC:FALLING LIKE FIRE )

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